


Runtime Error - Control Alt Determination

by LongwoodGeek



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Multiverse, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LongwoodGeek/pseuds/LongwoodGeek
Summary: Something is amiss amongst the Multiverse with an unknown corruption preventing the Caretaker from interacting with the infected universes. Facing no other options, the Caretaker sends out a forlorn hope in the form of souls from the Twin-Prime Multiverses.





	Runtime Error - Control Alt Determination

" _Ah, the Multiverse theory, one my personal favorites. The idea that there is an infinite number of universes parallel to our own that have sprung out of the decisions made by every person. I have a second theory of my own regarding Multiverses. I believe that many of our ideas for fiction come from our subconscious either in real-time from across Multiverses (i.e. connecting to ourselves for some data sharing back and forth) or at night when we sleep (more like syncing a computer and a phone together). Maybe there is even a central store somewhere that everyone resides in with different directories and configuration files that are backed up and used._

_Now, that in-and-of-itself is not a problem. The data transmission between ourselves across Multiverses is harmless as a rule, the worst thing to happen is you get a nightmare that was either a corrupted "sync" or something that actually happened in another Multiverse. Now though, we have something...new that has been added into the mix."_

The figure stands before a set of monitors that go on infinitely both to the left, and to the right, of the figure. I’m sure that they would probably go up and down infinitely but well, that would make it difficult for the figure to see them and would likely give them a bit of a crick in the neck besides. Still the figure has, was, is, will always be, watching the monitors. Except something is awry and the “will always be” part seems to be in question.

As the figure looks into the central monitoring station that he has fashioned for himself various disembodied hands are flying across a considerable number of input devices. The hands are putting in commands and running diagnostics as fast or faster than is even possible for a (normal) inhuman to comprehend. It is almost as if the hands are going through time as much as space to try to put in commands before something happens.

It seems as though this tremendous effort by the figure is to be in vain. Barely perceptible at the edges of vision is a red glow that seems to be seeping in from both sides as a rapid clip. Monitors go from scrolling their normal, unintelligible characters in some friendly colors (blue, green, occasional orange) suddenly bursting with corrupted text in a bright, nauseating red before settling down into just a large exclamation point inside of a triangle with the words “Connection Lost” below it.

The strain is becoming visible on the countenance of the figure. A caricature of a a human face; bearing only two eye sockets, a open, wide hole for a mouth, and cracks spanning the top and bottom of the “face,” you would not expect to see any evidence of the stress but there are some odd drops of…something starting to bead on his forehead.

Whatever the figure is doing that is causing such strain on them, it appears to be slowing down the inevitable even if just for a moment. While the many hands continue to fly across the various input devices the figure takes a metaphorical breath and weighs the odds. What is happening currently is not something that has ever happened in the multiverse and will ever happen in the future so there is nothing that the figure could have installed to handle this possibility. For the first time in many ages before and hence, the figure was at a loss. It knew that if it did not find an option soon then everything would cease to exist as it is, was, and would be.

Unseen alert lights began to flash and an eerie klaxon began sounding in this metaphysical data center. The figure glanced back up and saw the tinges of corruption beginning to appear on his main display. Fearing the worst was finally beginning the figure…stepped?…creeped?…oozed?…appeared….yes appeared will work here…in front of the display. What to most eyes, if they could even comprehend this form of reality, appeared to be hieroglyphics the figure was able to process immediately into useful data. In this instance though, the data was more akin to a countdown to system termination than anything else.

As the data flowed before the figure, the figure began to despair. No options appeared to him, no panacea or deus ex machina to be found. The figure shook its head and with what appeared to be a tear coming to life at the corner of its “eyes” called all of the hands together and began to input a sequence that it knew not where it came from in its mind but that was known for just such a purpose, a purpose that was never supposed to exist in anything but the hypothetical.  This code was, in effect, the ultimate reset of the multiverse. Tapping into the Twin Cores of the two Prime Multiverses, this sequence would send out the metaphysical equivalent of an EMP (Electro Magnetic Pulse) through the linked cores of the rest of the Multiverses. This would cause a “data-wipe” of everything in the connected multiverses. All of the corruption would be wiped away thanks to the “hardwired” connections between the Multiverses but so would everything and everyone one that had ever existed at any point in time. The figure was happy about that part though as they would no longer exist as well since they came from the Multiverses at one point as well and that point in time would cease to have existed meaning they would as well. It wondered who the knew caretaker would eventually be; would it be them again through some intrinsic code in the foundation of the Multiverse or would it be another?

With what passed for a shrug from the figure, it continued entering the final parts of the sequence, trying to keep ahead of the corruption. Whatever was guiding the corruption had redoubled its efforts and it was approaching the edges of the two Prime Multiverses. With barely meta-time to spare, the figure entered the last of the sequence.  Sparing a defeated glance at the sea of red surrounding the figure, the figure pulls all of its hands back together into a final pair. Hesitating over the “Execute” input switch for a meta-second, the figure finally presses its finger down in a small symbol of finality.

“Eyes” closed the figure waits for the oblivion to come. One meta-second passes, then two, then three. After five such time units pass the figure opens up its “eyes” to see why it hasn’t been blasted to nothingness.

**“FUNCTION ABORTED”**

The figure gives the main screen a quizzical glance. Perhaps it had mistakenly hit another input in the closing of its “eyes?” So it pressed execute again and waited again, “eyes” closed, for oblivion.

Again, the figure waited the appropriate 5 meta-seconds and again, opened its “eyes.”

**“FUNCTION ABORTED”**

The figure was beginning to feel something it had not felt in forever: irritation. It knew that time that it had not hit any other input after “Execute” so why was the function failing in such a way? It KNEW that function would work in the same way it KNEW everything that was supposed to happen past, present, and future!

The figure then paused with a horrified realization: it could not remember the last time it had known the future or if it had even known the future at all! Existing at all points at once, surely the figure would know everything but suddenly it realized it did not and did not know for how long that had been the case.

Opening a second input display, the figure hurriedly ran a self-diagnostic while it continued trying to execute the command IT KNEW would work and each time it responded with

 

**“FUNCTION ABORTED”**

**“FUNCTION ABORTED”**

**“FUNCTION ABORTED”**

 

Feeling emotions that the figure had not felt in sometime, frantic being the strongest among them, it heard the diagnostic display chime and turned to look.

 

**“CORRUPTION DETECTED >>>10% OF CODEBASE UNREADABLE>>>11% OF CODEBASE UNREADABLE>>>12%…”**

 

Now the figure felt another emotion, one that threatened to overwhelm it completely: ANGER. This morphed to FURY and then finally to something the figure could work with: DETERMINATION.

Knowing that it only had a small amount of meta-time to do something the figure gave up on firing off the function that it now realized was never going to work. Somehow it had been tricked into using it to while away time while whatever this corruption was/is took over. Wasting none of its time, the figure isolated and cut off access to the parts of itself and walled away as much as he could safely get away with as it contemplated its last actions.

It knew that somehow the Twin-Prime Multiverses had not been touched yet and that it was a miracle it had caught itself before the corruption truly had taken hold there. That self-same miracle of coding had prevented it from successfully executing the function it had tried to hard to make work. It knew, somehow it still knew, that something…or someone..no…someONES was protecting them beyond its ability to do so.

With the last bit of compression and segmenting, the figure did something it knew it could do but had never done…or was that wrong, had it?…and shot itself back in the heart of the machine as pure data, abandoning all physical or metaphysical form. From here the figure saw the raw data, the hopes and the dreams of everyone that had/would be, and the connection between those data flows. It was there that HE saw it, he remembered NOW more clearly than ever that HE existed, but he saw the connections that were keeping the Twin-Prime Multiverses together and that were fighting the corruption at every turn without knowing that THEY were and with tools that were both their own but not their own. Wait…could it be…yes they were able to keep the corruption at bay now but for how long with the wrong toolset?!

He, the good Doctor, realized that he had to do something to help them because it doing so, the Doctor could fix what he had been unable to!

Feeling a shadow behind him, the Doctor turned and saw the corruption trying to following him in through the hole in the data stream that he had created. The corruption was bouncing off but it would not be long before it was in! Hurrying the Doctor took one more look at the group fighting, trying to find a way to give them the tools they could use to fight and hopefully live!

Daring a full look at the data…the people…the Doctor suddenly felt a warm glow come over him and a feeling of…pride? Why would he feel pride for people he didn’t know? Why would he feel so proud that his sons and his daughters were holding fast against the fight that had failed him? Wait…his sons and daughters?!

It was in that moment that the he, the good Doctor, the Father to his sons and daughters, and now but a memory for them finally remembered who he was and what he had done and Dr. W.D. Gaster was PISSED.

Pausing only for a second to collect himself, Gaster, knowing that unfocused fury can lead to dangerous actions, pulled that pissed off feeling away and turned it into DETERMINATION. He WAS going to save his sons and daughters and be thrice damned to Oblivion if he wasn’t. He looked at the souls/data flashing before him, made the appropriate calculations, and thought the function into being, knowing THIS TIME that it was going to work. He looked at the corruption breaking down his defenses, saw the malicious intent behind it but knowing not from whence it game, and fired off what he felt might be his final command...a kludge code sequence from Hell itself…but what he hoped might do some good.

He felt, more than saw the following:

 

**“SUDO ~/gblaster.sh --true-reset --mem-save=Bernard,Mikah,Sans,Frisk-Chara,Flowey-Asriel --swap-sync=Bernard,Sans --side-load=critical --core-sync=true --sudoers=granted --tunnelling=granted”**

 

**“FUNCTION PROCESSING >>>>”**

 

**“WARNING >>>>WARNING>>>>WARNING….Power Levels Insufficient For Reset…FUNCTION ABORTING IN 10>>>9>>>8…”**

 

Gaster nearly panicked when he felt the function starting to revert but he took a last look around as he realized what was happening.

HE was the power that was being siphoned off, HE was the reason that the function was going to abort. HE WAS THE REASON THAT…his sons and daughters would all die…

 

**“7 >>>6>>>5…”**

 

With the last of his time he took one last look around and hoped that if the souls succeeded, he might see them again. He took that very power…DETERMINATION ..the one overriding function for all else and he thought into being:

 

**“SUDO KILLALL -9 -u WDGaster”**

 

and while he couldn’t see it, _as he faded he felt:_

 

**“ABORT OVERRIDDEN >>>RESOURCES AVAILABLE>>>FUNCTION PROCESSING>>>RESET INITIATED…”**

 

and in the end, there was THE BEGINNING.

 


End file.
